The Mending of a Broken Man
by Coi86
Summary: Hermione returns to Hogwarts to finish her schooling after the war, hoping for a quiet year of books and learning but once she see's the state Severus is in she realises she may be the only person who can help him rebuild his life and humanity.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione unpacked her belongings slowly, savouring the feeling of being back at Hogwarts for her eighth year. It wasn't only nice to be in familiar surroundings again, it was the feeling of security and normalcy that comforted her. And the anticipation of a year full of study and knowledge helped too. Knowing that, for an entire year, nothing but schoolwork would be expected of her was a relief. A sort of holiday from reality for a while, before the pressure to choose a career began to press on her from every angle.

Standing in her shared room, Hermione could feel the last part of the burden she had carried during the war melt away. This was where she was supposed to be now and nothing was going to ruin it for her.

She had managed to convince Ron and Harry to return as well, if only to do some intensive study before applying for the exams to become aurors. They wouldn't stay long at Hogwarts but any preparation would help them and that was all she could ask for.

Hermione stood and observed her now empty suitcase. With a wave of her wand it closed and stored itself under her bed. With nothing to do for the rest of the day - classes didn't start till tomorrow - she pondered on where to go and what to do.

The first thing that popped into her mind was the cosy corner of the library that she had made into her own during her time at Hogwarts. She smiled and grabbed one of the paperback novels she had brought with her and made her way to the beloved space.

The halls were quiet as students made themselves comfortable in their common rooms or were outside enjoying the sunshine. Distracted by random memories of her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione bumped into someone who had just stepped into the hallway. There wasn't a lot of force to the collision but it was enough to send the person back a couple of unsteady steps. Wondering if they might be drunk or ill, Hermione asked, "Are you alright?"

Any further words died in her throat as she realised just who she was speaking to.

Severus Snape stood before her, puffing slightly as he tried to catch his breath. Something seemed to be wrong with him. He didn't look like his usual self; his skin had a sickly pallor to it and he winced as he tried to gain his breath back. The only thing she recognised from the old Snape was the glare in his molten black eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth but was stopped by him raising his hand in a 'stop' gesture.

"I'll halt you right there Miss Granger. Since I'm to be stuck in this damn castle for the foreseeable future and we are likely to have to coexist in some way I will forestall your, no doubt, numerous questions and answer a handful on my own terms."

The sneer on his face looked almost genuine but Hermione could see the fatigue behind it. Strangely, she wasn't affected by his attitude toward her; it was just an echo of the venom he used to use with such precision. Either he wasn't putting his full effort into it or she had matured enough over the last year or so to not take someone at their face value any more. It also helped that she knew _very_ personal things about him that helped humanise him and in turn it made him less threatening in a way.

"One: I have no idea how I survived the attack from Nagini, in fact I barely remember it at all.

Two: I am no longer a professor at this school.

Three: I have been _forced_ to stay in said school until deemed healthy again."

Hermione took a moment to absorb what he had just said.

"Pro-."

"Did you not just hear me say _I am no longer a professor_?!"

The snarl in his voice made her jump. It was such an ingrained habit to call him 'professor' that it just popped out without her really thinking. His reaction to the title was strong; perhaps he had been forced to quit?

That wouldn't surprise her. After everything that had happened, some acts were just too awful to move past, no matter the reason behind them. Especially when it involved a betrayal of some kind, even if the betrayal turned out to be something else entirely.

A change in his breathing caught her attention and his face went pale. Hermione acted quickly, calling for a house elf while getting her shoulder under Snape's armpit to help support him before he fell to the floor.

"Milly!"

A house elf appeared beside them, wearing a pinafore style dress made from an eyeball searing burnt orange corduroy material. She looked curiously at the pair in front of her, clearly wondering what was going on.

"Milly, can you take us to Snape's living quarters please? He's not feeling so well right now."

The little elf grabbed her hand and in the blink of an eye, Hermione found herself standing in a room lit only by a crackling fire.

To her right stood a bed and without stopping to think of what she was doing she managed to half drag the nearly unconscious man and dump him on the mattress; belatedly remembering the spell that would have done the task for her. He seemed to be only half awake and was fading quickly, which prevented him from being of any use whatsoever.

After a bit of help from the elf, Hermione managed to get him under the covers with his shoes off. The effort had made her break out in a sweat and she fanned herself with her hand while looking at the man in front of her. He still looked ill but at least his face had regained some colour once he was relaxed in sleep, his breathing even and deep instead of the puffing from earlier.

Then it hit her that she was standing in Snape's bedroom. She knew she should feel unwelcome and uncomfortable but her curiosity kept any other feeling at bay as she turned to survey the room. It felt almost cosy and welcoming; definitely _not_ a feeling she would have associated with the menacing professor of years past.

There wasn't much furniture, just the bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe for hanging clothes. The most striking feature of the room was that the walls were lined with built in bookcases, from floor to ceiling. The lack of light didn't allow her to really see what subjects the books contained but she could see that every shelf was packed tight. It looked like a room she could be very comfortable in.

With a glance at Snape to make sure he was still asleep and breathing, Hermione left the bedroom by a door behind her and walked into a sitting room. The fireplace in there was alight too but the room was fully lit by an enchanted sky light that seemed to reflect the time of day and weather outside, just like the ceiling in the Great Hall was made to do.

Again, the walls were lined with bookcases, the same as the bedroom. It seemed to Hermione that the sitting room was placed inside a library and not the other way around.

In her element she walked around slowly, reading the titles of the books, trailing her fingers over the spines and loving the feeling of the different bindings. Some were old leather, fragile and crumbling. Others were bound in cloth, bumpy and smooth all at once. The newer leather bound tomes were supple and soft. Everyone judged her thirst for reading as purely a pursuit of knowledge. What they didn't realise was that for Hermione, reading wasn't just about gathering knowledge. It was something she enjoyed with all of her senses. The feel of the book in her hands; the weight of it. The smell of the parchment and ink. The sight of shelves or piles of books surrounding her as she browsed them. The sound of the pages being turned and the creaking of the spine as the book opened, maybe for the very first time. Even the sometimes unpleasant taste of dust if she breathed through her mouth was part of the experience. So far, no one understood her relationship to books and she doubted she would ever find anyone who immersed themselves as she did. Although from the appearance of Snape's rooms it looked like he at least physically tried to surround himself with the written word but who knew if he actually read them all that much.

She shrugged to herself, deliberately pushing all thought of the sleeping man in the next room from her mind.

The collection before her was irresistible. Forgetting where she was she selected a book at random and settled down to read.

oOoOoOo

Hours later, snuggled in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, she found herself being jolted out of her reading by a quiet but angry voice.

"Just what do you think you're doing Miss Granger? Does the phrase _private quarters_ mean nothing to you?"

Hermione's head jerked up and her eyes focused on the disheveled figure standing in the bedroom doorway. Her face flushed as she tried to explain, since he clearly didn't remember her helping him to his bed.

"Well, you were about to faint in the corridor and I couldn't just leave you to fall on the cold stone. So I summoned a house elf and she brought us here. Getting you into bed was a bit of an effort, you being nearly unconscious but Milly and I got you there eventually. And when I saw all of the books, I just kind of got side tracked…"

She shrugged, knowing there was no explanation that would please him. She waited for the yelling to begin.

Snape continued to glare at her for a moment but then it seemed like his anger just drained away, leaving him looking tired. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to pull the weariness away. Hermione remained where she was, following him with her eyes as he walked to the armchair across from where she sat to sit down heavily.

She didn't know exactly what Nagini's attack had done to him but it seemed to have made him into a pale imitation of the man he used to be. The old Snape would have continued his glaring and would have most likely driven her from the room with just the aid of some well chosen words. Now he appeared incapable of sustaining his trademark glare for more than a minute or two.

The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room but the atmosphere was thick with tension. Hermione didn't want to move from where she sat in case it provoked him. She wasn't afraid of him physically hurting her but she knew from experience that a verbal tirade from him could be just as damaging.

"Pro-Sir-. Snape?"

She tested the single word before continuing and when he didn't react negatively she went on.

"You said you don't remember anything about the attack. I do. Harry and I, we were there when it happened. Voldemort set Nagini on you as a way to eliminate you, thinking that would make him the master of the Elder Wand. It didn't work but that's another story."

She could feel his eyes on her and Hermione swore she could feel the heat from his gaze rolling over her. So she turned her own eyes to the flames of the fire as she continued.

"Sensing the end you gave some memories to Harry, who left quickly. That left me standing over your dying body."

The memory flooded back so vividly it almost stopped her breath. Watching someone being attacked that way was brutal, even if that someone has been an object of hatred for so many years. And then being the only one who might save his life had been a weight she hadn't wanted to bear. But she had taken it up and this is where it had led her, to an awkward conversation with Severus Snape.

"And? I presume there is more to this scintillating tale?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at him. She reminded herself that all he had left were words and he would use them as forcefully as he could to demean and irritate her.

"I made the only decision I could. I brought you back to Hogwarts through the secret passages and managed to find help to stabilise you until a more qualified healer could attempt to heal you properly. I don't know what happened after that. I can only assume that a healer did in fact heal you and then you were housed in your rooms here at Hogwarts for your recovery. It doesn't appear to be going very well."

The last part slipped out before she could stop it but she decided she wouldn't try to take it back. If Snape was going to heal and be irritable and incite anger in others while doing so he would just have to put up with being told off from time to time.

"You did have a choice. You could have let me die in peace instead of saving my life, leaving me to live as the pathetic ruin of a man you see before you."

His voice had gone soft, lacking his usual range of vehement tones. Hermione glanced over at him to find him slumped in the armchair, hands limply clasped in his lap in a real display of weariness. Her heart softened at the sight but then she frowned.

"You have a choice now too. You said pathetic? I agree. You are pathetic right now. You're alive! You may not want to be right now but once you heal completely and feel whole again you'll think differently. The Snape I used to know wouldn't act this way; broken and brow beaten. He'd get back on his feet and do something useful instead of lolling about the castle like an invalid!"

Hermione stood and left the sitting room without looking back. She was partly afraid that some spell would follow her out the door but didn't think it was likely. The punishment would find her tomorrow or the next day once her words had really sunk in.

She could hardly believe her bravado, telling off Severus Snape. She must have been temporarily possessed. A smile grew into a grin as she walked the rest of the way to the library.

During the Horcrux hunt she had found stern or harsh words were more likely to rouse Harry or Ron when they grew despondent or felt hard done by. It would help jolt them into action, and do things that need to be done like searching for food or lighting the campfire.

In the beginning she hadn't wanted to upset the delicate balance they had established but that just ended up with her doing most of the work. In the end nothing had helped with Ron but at least he had come back to them eventually.

The memory of him leaving still made her feel sad. It had left a large crack in her trust of him, which had turned into a crevice when they started going out after the war. It had quickly become apparent that she couldn't fully trust him not to abandon her again so they had gone back to being friends after a couple of months. It wasn't long till he found someone new to nurse his broken heart with and it made Hermione happy and relieved when their relationship went back to how it used to be. Or as close as it could be.

The library was deserted, no student in their right mind would be here if they didn't have to be. The hushed atmosphere deepened as Hermione walked toward the back of the room and found her corner to be just as it had always been. She breathed in deeply, the smell of parchment and ink settling over her like a comfortable blanket and she settled down with a smile to read the book she had surreptitiously taken from Snape's rooms.

oOoOoOo

As his saviour made herself comfortable in the library, Snape made himself feel the discomfort he had felt at her words.

He reveled in the feeling; it had been too long since he'd been able to allow himself the luxury of actually feeling emotions instead of the need to keep everything out. It was no longer necessary for him to keep a barrier between himself and everyone else. He was no longer a Death Eater, no longer a spy for Dumbledore. The identity that he had retained for the majority of his adult life had been stripped away, leaving him feeling lost.

After his encounter with the know-it-all witch he knew he was going to struggle with this new life he had been given the chance to live.

Her words before she ran off rang in his mind and he sat before the fire, mulling over each little syllable. The annoying thing was that she was right.

Severus sighed and leaned his head back on the chair. He knew he had no choice but to get better. It wasn't in him to just let go when he had the chance to get well and live again. Out from under the shadow of everything that had been there before. His eyes snapped open as the enormity of it all rushed over him.

"Shit", he groaned.

Now he really had to do something and not just be drawn along in the tide of things like before. He had control of his life for the first time and he was at a total loss as to what to do.

He grumbled to himself as he hefted his weight out of the armchair. He planned to speak to the headmistress about employment of some sort but when the room tilted before his eyes he decided bed was the only place he'd get to before passing out. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would go and find out what the future held for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus sat in the straight backed wooden chair, likening the unyielding wood at his back to the woman standing in front of him. The discomfort he felt from his healing wounds came not only from the hard surface beneath him but also from the heavy stare of his former colleague.

Headmistress McGonagall stood behind her desk, taking her time to assess the man in front of her. Her lips twitched as she noted his unease but she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or frown.

"Severus, what are you doing out of your rooms? I was told by Poppy that you still had a long way to go until you could easily walk around the castle. Any stress on your system is going to set you back even further than you are right now. Surely as a potions master you can figure out the best thing for you to do is rest. In your rooms."

It was as if she was talking to a child. He straightened in his seat, his eyes sparking with annoyance. He forgot his discomfort and fell back into how he would speak to her when they had been on an equal professional level with one another.

"Minerva, you know as well as Poppy does that I can't sit idle. It's driving me a little crazy being cooped up in bed. If I'm to be kept here in the castle like some wounded pet then give me something to do. I'll do anything."

The headmistress seemed to give the impression that she was giving his request serious thought, until he heard what task she had for him.

"If work is what you want then you'll get it. You can be a mentor and tutor to the handful of students returning to finish off their interrupted seventh year. Many of them are taking potions with Professor Slughorn. If Horace is still as he was no doubt he will spend more of his time cultivating relationships with his favourites than effectively teaching the rest of the class."

"Why did you retain him then if he's not teaching properly?"

Minerva looked surprised. It was commonly known that with the number of deaths that had occurred during the war it was rather difficult to recruit new teachers to the school just yet. Everyone was busy rebuilding their lives. Next year might bring new applicants but everything was still too raw just yet.

It didn't take long for Severus to come to this conclusion himself as he thought about it. Many people would avoid coming to the castle in general. It was after all the place where many loved ones had died or been tortured. And to add to the charm of the place he, a former Death Eater, was now living there.

He decided to change tact.

"What makes you think the students would want me as a tutor, let alone a mentor? Most of them will despise me for the things I've done even though it's now common knowledge that I wasn't always under Voldemort's thumb and the rest will sneer at me for working for Dumbledore all those years. It's a lose lose situation Minerva and you know it."

Severus winced. He sounded like a complaining child, whining about a chore he didn't want to do.

"You asked for anything, any task available. This is what I need you to do Severus. The eighth years will need extra support this year, especially those that are only staying with us for a short time in order to complete the essential exams before moving off into careers they would have been ready to begin this year. Your potions and dark arts knowledge is indispensable right now."

It had been the Ministry's idea. Offer eligible students a fast track into the jobs they wanted so the wizarding world could begin to try and function again.

So many deaths in such a short time had seriously damaged their world and the services offered were on the brink of collapsing. St Mungo's was especially in need of healers and people experienced in construction magic were also needed in order to repair or rebuild various buildings that needed attention.

They sat in silence, the headmistress with her hands clasped on the desk in front of her, a picture of composure and patience. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose to try and ease the dull pain of the headache that had been plaguing him all morning. He knew he was in no state to spend one on one time with anyone yet, let alone potentially mentally fragile students. He was only just managing to keep himself together; he needed more time before he took on the task that was being asked of him.

"I will need a month to prepare before I agree to this….job, Minerva. In the meantime I will familiarise myself with the course load of these students and help the staff teaching them with marking or subject planning if they need it."

All he got was a nod and a faint smile in response before she turned her attention to the parchment in front of her. When she picked up a quill and began writing, Severus knew he had been dismissed. Getting to his feet took a moment; his vision darkened around the edges anyway. Just another reminder that he was unwell. He stood with one hand on the back of the chair and took some deep breaths before he walked slowly out of the office. Shuffling down the staircase took more time.

"Bloody hell."

He stopped to lean against the wall at the bottom, frustrated and proud at the same time. Proud because he hadn't tripped over his own lagging feet and tumbled to the bottom of the stairs and frustrated because he knew just how far from walking without thinking through every step he was.

He had a month. One month to get well enough to begin working again. And then after that…..

He really had no idea.

oOoOoOo

"There she is, already buried in a book. We've only been back half a day; I'll bet Hermione's already finished her homework for the week."

Ron's voice floated through the Great Hall to where the object of his comment was seated. She wasn't insulted. There was truth to it though it would have been nice if her ex-boyfriend could have framed it in a slightly more flattering way. Or not have said it at all.

Hermione snorted to herself. _Yeah, and hell might have frozen over too_.

They sat on either side of her and after a quick hello began loading their plates up with food.

"How was your morning Hermione? We didn't see you yesterday either but we were playing Quidditch most of the day so that's not really too surprising. Did you enjoy getting reacquainted?"

She looked at Harry in surprise. How did he know she'd run into Snape? He was being very cool about it; it had taken him most of the summer holidays to get used to thinking of Snape as a friend instead of an enemy.

After taking the memories and viewing them, Harry had been different. The battle was enough to make him act strangely but he had been able to deal with and let go of most of what had happened between him and Voldemort. It was all dramatic and strangely impersonal in a way. The stuff with Snape was deeply personal, relating to his mother and it proved to be the most difficult to come to terms with.

He had spent a large chunk of his life hating the ex-potions master for reasons that turned out to be not entirely what they seemed. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around it all. Ginny's influence had gone a long way to helping him understand and begin to get over it. She was his emotional rock in the raging sea of feelings and ideals. And the occasional frustrated outburst from her helped jolt him along too.

"I'm not sure if I'd say we got acquainted. More like a hurried hello for now but see you later. It was nice to settle into the library again. I'll be spending a lot of time there."

Both of them rolled their eyes at her.

"I mean more so than i usually would. It turns out I'll be working on my own little projects for the subjects I'm taking. I'll only be in the classroom if I need to be there to speak to the professor teaching the class and for potions of course. And then I'll take my exams as well, alongside the rest of the students. The headmistress deemed me capable of studying independently; one less student for them to worry about and all that."

Ron stopped eating, a look of panic on his face.

"So that means you won't be helping Harry and me with our coursework then? I almost had a fit looking at my timetable for the short time we're here. I don't see why they couldn't just train us on the job. If they're so desperate for aurors why not just chuck us in and go from there? It's not like we haven't done it all before anyway."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. Some of what he said was true. What Ron seemed to not understand was that even though they had dealt with many dangerous situations during their horcrux search he was ignoring the fact that they had actively been hiding from their pursuers. They hadn't had to deal with too many interactions with the death eater's. And then when they did they'd been captured in the end. It was only luck, and having the right friends, that they'd gotten out alive. She said as much.

"Ron, you don't understand. You and Harry will be searching out extremely dangerous people. You need to know how to deal with them and not just rely on dumb luck to get through. As an auror you have to rely on your own skills as well as those around you. You're only as good as your weakest link in some situations. You don't want to be that weak link do you? You or someone in your team could die."

Hermione knew she should have left the last bit off when she saw his face go red. He set his fork down and left the table as quickly as he could without tripping over the bench. She sighed. Harry patted her shoulder.

"Be a bit easier on him Hermione. He knows the risks; he's just frustrated with being stuck in the classroom. He's itching to get out and just _do_ something. But you're right. He's going to get himself killed if he doesn't slow down. I'll try talking to him later but just try not to be so, well, the word condescending comes to mind."

One look at her face had him holding his hands up in surrender.

"Hey. I just want to try and make you see it from his point of view. Ah, there's Ginny. I think I'll take her some lunch."

He made a quick exit, jogging over to his girlfriend who stood at the entrance to the Great Hall. Her ponytail was windswept, strands of hair straggling out in all directions. She had her broomstick in hand and looked tired. A happy smile lit her face when she spotted Harry and they walked away together, Harry's arm draped across her shoulders.

Hermione stayed where she was. The anger she'd felt at Harry's words dwindled down to a slight irritation, then disappeared completely to be replaced by a melancholic feeling. She knew she was hard on Ron sometimes. He had a certain naivety about some things and had a propensity to say the silliest things. If he just took a little time before saying something, just think it over a little, she would not feel compelled to be so condescending, as Harry had put it. She had to admit that that word did describe her at times. It was the hard to control know-it-all bursting out, ready to douse any conversation in cold hard logic and knowledge.

Her thoughts flicked to the look on Ginny's face, which had no doubt mirrored Harry's face when he saw her. She wished she had someone to look at her that way, like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

Viktor had given her a small taste of what that felt like but in the end they had been poorly matched. It had been her first lesson that good looks were all well and good but they quickly lost their charm if there was nothing else to back them up. Viktor was a good man, loyal, steady and incredibly fit but his interests were so different to her own that they found nothing much to talk about and as a couple things had fizzled out rather quickly.

They kept in touch by writing the occasional letter and his invitation to visit him in Bulgaria was always there if she ever felt like taking a trip but she hadn't seriously considered going.

A general feeling of loneliness settled over her like a cloak. It occurred to her that this year, while filled with study and reading, was going to be a lonesome one for her. With Harry and Ron leaving soon she'd be without the constant companions of previous years. And Ginny might leave before the year was out. The Holyhead Harpies had extended an invitation to train with them and finish her schooling externally. That left Hermione alone at Hogwarts. Very few of her classmates had returned and most were focused on themselves, intent on doing what they needed to in order to move into whatever career they had chosen. And some were just barely holding themselves together and had no room for thought of anyone else's wellbeing but their own.

 _I did used to wish I could be left alone to immerse myself in study. Looks like I got what I asked for._

As more students left for their afternoon classes the noise level decreased until it was almost silent. The drop in noise made Hermione look around and think it was time to return to the library to continue her project for Ancient Runes. A scattering of older students were all that remained, and only one adult was seated at the long table on the dais. Snape was bowed over his plate, everything about his posture saying to stay away.

She didn't.

A snap decision had Hermione walking up to the table. She had no idea what she would say, only that she felt compelled to walk up to the taciturn man and at least say hello.

Her nerves settled in her stomach, fluttering around like a bunch of trapped moths trying to get out to the seductive light. Her common sense told her to leave him alone, as he wanted, and just go about her own business but she knew she wouldn't be able to settle down to study without attempting to see how he was doing. It was irrational; she felt responsible for him.

Now, standing a couple of paces in front of him, she was tongue tied. Words had deserted her, or at least she had lost the nerve to say anything at all, probably for the first time in her life.

Snape seemed completely unaware that anyone had approached. His eyes were on his plate, he seemed transfixed by the crumbs there.

He was, in fact, feeling incredibly weary. He had slept well enough during the night and then again for a short time after his visit with the headmistress. On waking he knew it was time for lunch and had briefly considered taking some food in his room only to disregard the thought. He'd have to get used to eating in the Great Hall at some point and avoiding doing so was cowardly, one of the negative qualities he was sure he _didn't_ possess.

So he had quietly slipped into the hall when lunch was halfway done with. He'd intended to sit at the end of the table but had been beckoned over by Horace to fill the empty seat next to him, putting him closer to the middle of everything than he'd have liked.

The gregarious professor had attempted to engage him in conversation at first but then seemed content to just hold up his side of the dialogue when it was clear that he wouldn't get more than an occasional monosyllabic reply out of his lunch mate. The chatter of voices floated around him without intruding and the general feeling of comradery and comfort that the gathered students emitted made him feel as if things hadn't changed all that much. Except for the aching in his body; that was new and served as a reminder that all was not quite as well as he'd like.

He sat, one of the last left in the hall and stared at his plate. Sleep was close, his eyes were having a hard time focusing on what was in front of him.

The scent of old parchment came to him, as well as something like vanilla. His nose twitched, he looked up to find he had an audience. Looking into Hermione's brown eyes, he noticed they held more than the subtle flecks of gold he hadn't noticed before. Concern. Curiosity. Panic.

He almost smiled. Almost.

A timid smile appeared on her face, responding the expression he'd repressed. It seemed to give her the courage to speak.

"I just wanted to ask how you are. It's good to see you up and about, though it must be tiring. I remember when my dad had surgery on his knee. The recovery time was awfully long and every day was challenging for him. He wanted to do more than he was supposed to. My mum had a hard time keeping him in check so he wouldn't over do it and injure himself further. I used to go on walks with him, to help get his mobility back. I helped with other things too so if you need assistance or company you can find me in the library, I'm almost always there."

She was babbling. Snape watched the blush appear slowly on her cheeks as she rattled on. It was the first time he had seen her be truly unsure of herself and he found it fascinating to watch. The bloom of colour on her face accentuated her clear, pale complexion in a way that attracted him, the thought of tracing a finger over the skin of her cheek broke through the fog of weariness in his mind. An alien feeling of yearning spread through him at the thought of actually being able to touch someone. It had been a long time.

He attempted to quash the image and emotion immediately. Apparently not only his body had been broken, his common sense and sense of propriety had also been damaged if he was thinking of a student in that way, of _anyone_ in that way really. The last romantic feelings he had let himself feel had been for Lily as an adolescent. After that it had been necessary to keep anything like that from taking root in his mind. Keeping his thoughts and emotions in strict order had contributed to keeping him alive.

Now, in his weakened state they wouldn't go away completely so he mentally boxed it all away for consideration at a later time. He took a steadying breath.

 _Control. Good, that's better._

"Thank you Miss Granger. I'll keep that in mind if I find the need for a thousand and one facts about anything and everything."

He rose, too quickly, and almost passed out. Placing both hands on the table to steady himself he saw her make a move to help support him.

"Don't."

The word was just barely a whisper but she heard him and stopped. Her face was an open book; the words worry and consternation printed on the pages. It softened his mood a little. If it had been a long time since he'd cared to touch another person, it was even longer since anyone had given a damn what happened to him. The words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Thank you."

He moved away and out of the hall as quickly as he could, not brave enough to see her reaction. He told himself he didn't care.

He made it back to his sitting room and threw himself into an armchair. He felt like he was in pieces. Like a jigsaw puzzle that had been thrown on the floor and stepped on a couple of times just to make sure he felt as bad as he possibly could.

 _What is happening to me?_

It wasn't a simple question that could be answered after thinking for a day or two. He was sure it would take much much longer than that, if he found an answer at all.


End file.
